The Song In My Head (Reminds Me Of You)
by who tf knows
Summary: soulamates au based on a tumblr post: "When you get a song stuck in your head, it's because your soulmate is singing it." famous singer!Phil phan fluff
1. The Piano

**Heyo!**

 **So, first fic of 2016 and of course it's phan**

 **Summary: soulamates au based on this post:** **post/120689825166/yourweeaboobs-yuekono-destiel-ismyotp** **"When you get a song stuck in your head, it's because your soulmate is singing it."**

 **Word count: 1541**

 **Warnings: swearing, OOC-ness and unedited.**

 **Disclaimer: You're generally not allowed to own people so…**

 **Enjoy!**

—

 _Seriously, again - this is like the fourth time,_ Dan thought as _'Whatever'_ by Phil Lester once again started playing in his mind. His soulmate must be some kind of starstruck twelve-year-old because _holy hell was his music all they played?_ He supposed he _did_ kind of like Phil Lester… well he was _alright,_ but hearing him _non-fucking-stop_ kind of dampened his opinion.

He was kind of glad that his piano teacher only allowed him to play classics - his childish mind saw it as some kind of revenge, the thought of making whoever was on the other end listening to Mozart rather than the 22-year-old superstar.

Glaring up at the indecipherable scrawl on the board in an attempt to dispel the music from his mind, Dan copied down what he could, and inwardly groaned because he was _in no way_ ready for his final exams.

 _He was tapping his foot._

Dan froze, foot poised to tap along with the music. _Stop, you're not enjoying this,_ he told himself furiously, _you're annoyed because Phil Lester seems to be the only musician they ever play - but what's even worse, is that they never finish the fucking song, and it always sounds weird._

True to his word, the song in his mind cut of abruptly in a stream of fucked up guitar chords and random drum beats.

Grumbling, Dan placed his head down on his desk. He never knew if they were playing it themselves, or if they had snuck into a recording session or if they were playing the recording of his concert and it was _pissing him off._

The bell rang, drowning out the incessant guitar riffs and running vocals.

Dan slid his books into his bag unceremoniously and zipped it up, before making his way to his next class - which, thankfully, was music.

He would drown out those same three songs if it killed him.

The music teacher was great - and by great, he meant _hella lazy._ All they ever did was prac, and sometimes it sucked because Dan actually wanted to learn something about music but today he just dumped his bag at a random desk and sped off towards the practice rooms, where the _single_ grandpiano in the school resided.

—

"He's playing fucking classical again," Phil Lester announced, much to everyone in the room's chagrin.

"Can't you just push through it? There's a concert tomorrow and if you don't rehearse you're screwed," PJ, his bassist, asked.

"Could you whenever _that_ lump was listening to shit?" Phil deadpanned, gesturing to Chris, who was grinning and tapping on a drum randomly.

PJ fell silent.

"That's what I thought."

"Alright everyone, take… however long it takes him to get off the piano," his manager announced.

The crew dispersed, grumbling about how annoying it was to keep having to do this.

"To be fair," Chris smirked, "we're probably annoying the pants off him by playing the set list over and over again - by the sounds of it, he doesn't even _like_ this kind of music."

"He does," Phil told him, "he listens to it sometimes - Fall Out Boy, MCR, that kind of thing, and when I was twenty I'm pretty sure all he did was listen to music."

They moved away from the instruments and Phil flopped down onto the couch, the shrill notes playing themselves in his mind. He chuckled when a wrong note was touched, usually resulting in a bit of banging that couldn't even be counted as music, so Phil had no idea why he heard it.

"Do you still not know who he is?" Chris inquired.

"Nah, but he's getting better," he muttered distractedly, closing his eyes.

The tune in his head changed, and Phil shot up from where he had been lying down on the couch. "He's playing _Psycho,"_ he told his friends, who had flinched at the sudden movement.

"Is that even possible to play on piano?" PJ asked, trying to think up how it would work and shrugged.

" _Love, it will get you nowhere…"_ Phil sung softly, nodding his head, _"you are on your own…"_

The music faltered slightly, and he wondered if his soulmate could hear him.

" _Lost in the wild… so come to me now…"_

—

Dan stopped, fingers poised above the shining keys in shock.

 _Someone had been singing along._

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, playing Psycho - on one hand, he wanted to get his soulmate back for the non-stop Phil Lester, but _Muse._

What he didn't expect, was an all too familiar voice singing along with his playing.

Tentatively, he placed his fingers back on the ivory and continued the song.

"… _I could use someone like you…"_

Dan smiled - he was really good, whoever he was.

" _Someone who'll ki-i-ill on my command, and asks no questions…"_

Wait.

 _Dan had heard this voice before._

He recoiled away from the piano like it was on fire.

 _That was fucking Phil Lester's voice._

No.

 _No way._

 _This isn't happening._

 _What. The actual. Fuck._

He slammed his fingers down and a harsh jumble of mismatched notes in a feeble attempt to calm himself down and _get his fucking voice out of my head._

Beethoven's Fifth. Focus on that. No one can sing along to that. Because there's no lyrics you see so there's nothing for _Phil fucking Lester_ to sing to.

But that wouldn't happen anyway, because Phil Lester isn't his soulmate.

Nope.

Dan played until his fingers felt stiff from being stretched and sweat was beading on his forehead.

He calmed down, and thought for a moment.

Phil Lester _definitely wasn't_ his soulmate… but if- if he _was_ then…

Dan took a deep breath, ignored how much of a laughably bad idea this was, and took out his phone. _OfficialPhilLester,_ he typed out, _I Write Sins Not Tragedies, Panic! At The Disco._

Post.

There, the tweet as out there for the entire world to question, but if - on the off chance that a big-shot like _Phil Lester_ would ever see his tweet - he _was-_

 _And I'm not saying he is,_ Dan's mind helpfully interjected.

- _My soulmate, then he would know, wouldn't he?_

Dan set his phone aside, stared at the monochromatic keys of the piano, regretted everything he had ever done, then began to play.

—

"Anything interesting on twitter?" PJ asked conversationally.

Phil shook his head. "Nah, maybe we should do a Q-and-A to pass the time?"

"Phil you hate Q-and-A's," Chris pointed out, "you say we always get stupid questions."

"Well we do!"

Chuckling slightly, Phil mindlessly scrolled through his mentions.

 _Danisnotonfire: OfficialPhilLester I Write Sins Not Tragedies, Panic! At The Disco._

 _What?_

Was it a song suggestion? Was _Danisnotonfire_ telling him to do a cover? Was it just a general _a wild song appeared!_ situation? What?

Then it happened.

Phil dropped his phone and for once he didn't even care if it cracked because _oh god it was happening._

Surely, it was a coincidence, right?

 _But it can't be because that's what the tweet said and then straight after-_

"Phil!"

"Phil what's wrong?"

He stared at his friends, wide-eyed and gaping. "Look at this tweet," he gasped, grabbing the phone off PJ - who had managed to save it from disaster - and unlocking it, before subsequently shoving it back at him.

" _I Write Sins Not Tragedies,"_ PJ read aloud, "yeah ok, good song- what about it?"

" _It's in my head."_

You could have heard a pin drop.

"No fucking way," Chris laughed, "that's just - _wow."_

Phil nodded, uncertainty edging his thoughts. "Yeah but it's a popular song, maybe it's not him?"

Pj rolled his eyes and checked _danisnotonfire_ 's profile.

The song ended. All was silent except for the sound of PJ's fingernail tapping on the screen as he refreshed the page.

 _danisnotonfire: OfficialPhilLester Centuries, Fall Out Boy_

Then it happened again, and Phil felt like his chest was being filled with cotton balls - light and fluffy and making it hard to breath.

—

Dan sighed as his fingers lingered on the last notes of the song. _Alright,_ he thought to himself, _two songs, that was what I told myself. If he hasn't caught on by now I'll just have to accept that I've got a… Phil Lester impersonator? as a soulmate._

Reaching over for his phone, he ordered himself not to get - _nervous, happy, expectant -_ excited when he saw the _(1)_ bubble on his DM's.

(It could be anyone after all. Honestly, it could be any of his friends. Y'know all those friends that he _doesn't have._ )

What he _did_ however, was stand up abruptly, making the piano stood scrap horribly against the polished wooden floor and fall down with a sickening _crash_ when he saw who it was that had messaged him.

 _OfficialPhilLester, danisnotonfire_

 _Um… hi._

 _22/9/15, 11:30 AM_

 _No. Fucking. Way._

—

 **So there's that. Idk what it is with me and soulmate AUs like I need to chill.**

 **Please tell me what you thought and any mistakes I might need to fix up ^_^**

 **As always,**

 **Thornsword.**


	2. Hole-In-The-Wall

Heyo!

So guess who might have accidentally started another series when they really didn't need to start another series?

This guy!

Summary: Coffee date - is it a date? it is now - in a tiny cafe with no one else around and Dan is surprised at how easily conversation flows.

Word count: 1514

Warnings: minimal editing

Disclaimer: I live on the literal other side of the world to these two life is hard

enjoy!

—

Dan was freaking out.

Which, for the moment, was fine. He had a perfectly legitimate reason to be freaking out, and there was no one else in the tiny, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop to see him stare at the table like it just told him how he would die.

Phil Lester. Phil _fucking_ Lester was supposed to meet him in ten minutes.

After that life-changing music lesson (of which he spent most of it sitting at the piano typing away at his phone), they had exchanged snapchats so Phil could see the face of the disappointment he'd been saddled with.

(After Dan sent him a selfie he had gotten a blurred image of something resembling a face and the caption: hOW a Re YOu THAt ho t anD jUST 18?)

Two weeks and several hundreds messages through at least three different platforms of communication, here they were; seconds away from meeting and Dan still struggling to grasp the reality of the situation.

The bell hanging off the door chimed and Dan's head jerked up expectantly, but when he saw an uncoordinated bundle of clothes stumble in, he lowered his gaze.

"Dan!" a smooth, unfamiliar voice called out.

He looked up again, only to find the uncoordinated bundle of clothes making it's way over to him, a cheery glow in what he could see of the person underneath's cheeks.

 _No way._ Dan couldn't help it. He burst into laughter.

"Ph- _Phil?"_

"Hey! don't mock my disguise!"

Phil Lester - _The_ Phil Lester sat down awkwardly, unwound a scarf from around his neck and took of one of his jackets.

"Aren't you hot in that?" Dan asked, still giggling slightly.

"I'm dying," Phil agreed, shedding yet another layer, "but it's this or a mob."

He took off the glasses and beanie, and _that's_ when it finally sunk in for Dan. Up until then, he had been talking just like he would to a friend, but seeing Phil Lester's face properly punched his self esteem in the throat.

Finally free from the numerous layers, Phil let out a breath and smiled. "This is literally the only place I can go to get coffee in peace, mainly because three of the four baristas I know work here don't know who I am and the fourth doesn't give a shit."

"Oh how hard life is for you," Dan crooned in mock sympathy, hoping that his cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

This was Phil Lester sitting across from him. Phil Lester was smiling at him. Dan didn't meet very many famous people so excuse him for being slightly starstruck.

Phil put a hand to the right side of his chest. "Woe is me," he agreed humorously.

"Your heart's on the other side," Dan pointed out, "singing didn't give you much chance for an education did it?"

Phil laughed. "You're even more sarcastic in person."

 _Fuck. I fucked up,_ Dan thought to himself. Over the time they had been talking, Dan had managed to convince Phil that he wasn't the socially inept asshole that he most definitely was. The phenomenon was purely because over dms he had time to think about what he was going to say, but there was no such thing in real life. His sarcasm brain-to-mouth filter didn't work as fast as he wanted it to.

"Hey it's fine!" Phil reassured, as if sensing Dan's inner turmoil, "my two best friends - and bandmates - are the most sarcastic little shits I have ever met."

Dan smiled slightly.

"Well, seeing as _someone_ was late, I'm really thirsty-"

"Oh I bet you are," Phil interjected, smirking.

Dan gasped deliberately and put a hand to his chest. "Philip Lester. Are you insinuating what I think you're insinuating?"

"I have no idea _what_ you're talking about Daniel," Phil chuckled, before standing up and holding out a hand, "c'mon, let's go order."

Dan laughed and took his hand without thinking, then stopped in his tracks as he realised what he just did. He just held Phil Lester's hand so they could walk the literal two meters to the counter _what kind of clingy fuck-_

His mental chiding was cut off as Phil just grasped his hand tighter - and _no_ they did not fit together perfectly _is this a fucking disney movie -_ and tugged him gently towards the counter.

The bored teenager let out a sigh as she saw them come up to her, put her phone down and leaned on the bench, one hand holding a pencil and the other propping her head up.

"What can I get you?" she asked monotonously.

"I'll have a medium caramel macchiato and - Dan?"

"Two caramel macchiatos," Dan replied in a small voice, shifting awkwardly.

 _"Two?"_ Phil repeated, "jeez you weren't kidding when you said you were thirsty-"

Dan elbowed him lightly. "You know what I mean you twat."

The barista rolled her eyes and started up the coffee machine.

"So how long have you been playing piano?" Phil asked, smiling and leaning back against the counter.

"Since I was like, ten I think? My mum made me 'cus she said I didn't get out of the house enough, and it's fun so…" he paused, "how long have you wanted to do.. what you're doing?"

"My whole life."

The answer was immediate and the way Phil's face lit up at the mention of it - not just his smile, but his eyes and his posture, everything about him just screamed _I love it._

"Ah shit," Dan sighed.

"What?"

"You're still gonna annoy the fuck outta me with the constant practice."

Phil laughed, and nodded. "Yeah - sorry about that. To be fair everyone hates you when you play piano, as beautiful as it is."

"Ha," the corners of Dan's lips curled upwards smugly, something light in his chest.

"Two caramel macchiatos," the teen droned, half slamming the drinks against the counter before walking away and picking up her phone again, a slight smile gracing her lips at the action.

The two talked the rest of the day away, hands cupped around cold mugs and cheeks flushed with laughter. They spent hours at the small cafe without even realising it, and would have spent several more just talking if it weren't for Phil's phone ringing.

Dan jumped at the unexpected blaring, almost falling off his chair and Phil was giggling as he answered.

"H-Hello?"

It was PJ. _"Yo Phil - are you still out with Flames McGee? Practice starts in ten minutes."_

"Shit," Phil cursed, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach, an unwelcome opposite to the previous buzzing.

 _"Yeah. Don't be late!"_

PJ hung up, and Phil started gathering the mess of clothes around him.

"What's up?" Dan asked, concerned.

"I didn't realise how late it was," Phil explained hastily, putting on one of many jackets, "I'm gonna be late for practice."

"Shit," Dan agreed. He sat still for a second, thinking over something, then he got up and started helping Phil.

Once he was done - after several awkward touches and a few strange looks from the barista - he held out his hand once again and smiled at the red hue of Dan's ears as he took it.

They exited the cafe and Phil sighed, mentally preparing himself how hot he was gonna be in 0.2 seconds.

They stood outside for a second, hand in hand and awkwardly not wanting it to end.

"So um… we should do this again?" Dan told him, though it sounded like a question.

"Yeah. It was fun."

Dan let go of his hand, taking two steps away from him. "Well uh, I'm going this way."

Phil nodded. "I'm gonna catch a cab."

"Okay."

"Okay."

The first awkward silence of their - was it a date? It's now a date - settled upon them like a fire blanket.

Dan was glancing around, knowing that this was the time he should be leaving but feet remaining firm nonetheless.

Without quite realising what he was doing, Phil walked towards him, took Dan's hand and placed a kiss on his cheek, chuckling at the wide-eyed expression of surprise on his face.

"See you later?"

Dan smiled, not loosing the blush despite relaxing. "Definitely."

Thus ended the first and last awkward silence. Phil continued to wait in front of the small coffee shop as Dan headed back to his house, humming softly to himself.

Phil chuckled listening to the made-up tune in his head, singing along slightly with Dan long after he had gone.

—

With me it's make it cheesy or it doesn't end

Please tell me what you thought and if I made any mistakes!

As always,

Thornsword.


	3. Pocket Full of Sunshine

This chapter's a bit short and doesn't really have a plot.

But enjoy anyway I guess

—

Despite sweating approximately half his body weight off that day, Phil was still buzzing from the memories. He'd had a few relationships in the past, a few flings, and although they had made him happy it was nothing compared to what those few hours had felt like.

Oh _god,_ he had only met the kid _once_ and suddenly he was a lovestruck sap. Phil groaned slightly, a smile creeping onto his face. He placed a hand on his forehead. This was dumb. _He_ was dumb.

"Phil?" his manager, Louise, asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, "you okay?"

"I'm fine."

She smiled softly and sat down next to him on the obscenely red waiting couch. "You sure you want to do this? Didn't you just meet him the other day? I know people can get a bit-" she waved her hands and shrugged her shoulders "- after meeting their soulmate."

"I know. I can still do the interview," he persisted. This was one of three, and only three interviews he was doing about the release of his new album. He had to do it. He was fine.

"Mr Lester?" a man - probably an intern - dressed in black called, "we're ready for you."

He gave Susan a bright smile and followed the man.

—

"-Phil Lester! Give him a warm welcome!"

Another person wearing black held up an _applause_ sign and the man gestured for Phil to go out. He bounced on the balls of his feet, smiled widely and stepped out onto the stage.

"Thanks for coming!"

He sat down on yet another violently red chair. "Hey Susan," he greeted cheerfully, "good to be here."

She smiled widely, perfect white teeth flashing under the spotlights. "So, Phil, new album-" the audience cheered as per the stage cue "-when's it coming out?"

"The twen-"

Phil stopped mid sentence. A dumb smile helplessly crossed his lips and he buried his face in his hands.

"Phil?" the interviewer asked, "are you okay?"

He looked up, nodding slowly. "Yeah! Yeah, I'm good - it's just that my soulmate is singing _Pocket full of sunshine_ horribly off-key just to piss me off."

"Oh wow she seems annoying."

Phil shook his head immediately. "No! Well I mean…" he exclaimed, before looking straight into the camera, "you're a little shit," he turned back to Susan, "but I guess I like him."

"Him…?"

"I thought it was blatantly obvious how gay I am."

The poor reporter looked stunned, as if she wasn't sure what to do with this new information. A split second later, she was smiling hungrily. This was _her_ breaking news, and she would milk _everything she possibly could_ from this interview. The first person to report Phil Lesters' Homosexual Crisis™.

"Really? And how was it, coming to terms with something like that?"

Phil laughed. "Only at times like these would the subject change so abruptly from my dorky - yet still adorable - soulmate to the crippling sexuality crisis I must have had when I was a teenager."

At least she had the decency to look embarrassed.

"For your information, there was no crisis and I was completely fine with it from the get-go. Now the new single _Never Is Too Many Times To Say Goodbye_ \- please don't make me the new _Fall Out Boy_ meme with their long song titles - is going to be the first song on the album…"

—

Phil knew that the interview would be posted up on youtube within an hour of him leaving, so as soon as he got back home, he took out his laptop and opened a new tab, scowling at the other fifty _completely necessary_ ones. After refreshing youtube a good thousand times, the video came up.

He copied the address and sent it to Dan.

—

Dan didn't want to move. He heard his phone ding but he was so nice and comfortable on his bed and looking at his phone would involve _getting up_ so… no.

A few sudden guitar chords made him jump and exit the tab. Then, Phil's deliberately chipper voice invaded his mind.

 _Fuck you! Fuck you very, very mu-u-u-uch!_

So it was Phil who texted him.

It was probably about him singing earlier.

Dan giggled at the memory and pulled back the covers, shivering at the cool air. Walking across the room, he grabbed his phone and opened messages.

 _I hate you_

 _Also look at this interview everything past 2:31 is entirely your fault_

He retreated back to his bed and grabbed his shitty headphones off the floor before clicking on the link Phil sent him.

Dan was smiling stupidly at everything past 2:31. His heart was about to burst at Phil smiling in that way you could tell he was trying not to laugh and calling him a little shit, and the reporter's face after he completely blocked her off and barely let her get a word in edgewise was priceless.

 _Holy fuck that was amazing,_ he texted Phil.

 _But was it worth the thousands of phone calls I'm getting?_ Was the reply.

 _Yes. Completely._

 _I bet it's going to be on at least 3 magazines tomorrow: Phil Lester: Coming Out At Last?_

 _What about Phil Lester: "I Knew It!" Claims Superfan_

 _I hate you_

 _Phil Lester: Pants On Fire?!_

 _No I promise you I really do_

 _Phil Lester: A Shit Liar_

 _Go to hell Dan_

 _—_

I hope the whole texting stuff wasn't confusing as to who is who

Anyway, please tell me what you thought and I'll try not to take five years to update.


End file.
